stay with me
by She's a Star
Summary: He pushes up her glasses and scowls at her, just in case she isn't aware of how very ridiculous she is. It is his job to remind her, after all. SnapeSinistra


**stay with me**

_by She's a Star_

**Disclaimer:** It's JKR's, dontcha know? Well, okay, except for Herman. And the Diaries/Lamentations references. Those are kind of ours, almost. Mind blowing!

**Author's Note:** I have no clue where this came from at all. I was just sitting here, quite bored, when I randomly decided that I needed to write. So I picked five random words from the fic I was reading and decided to write 100-word drabbles for each. Unfortunately, this didn't quite work, because if you put a limit on anything for me, I will automatically go at least 100 words over it. It is my way.

Anyhoo, I have to take a sec to make a shout-out to the fic whose lovely words inspired this, and to rec it to anybody who likes Alias. It was written by my dear friend Madita, and is honestly one of the most gorgeous, heartbreaking, chilling, romantic things I've ever read, so if you're an Alias fan and you like the idea of Syd and Vaughn having to suffer through even more angst than they did in season three, go check it out. ;-) It's called 'perdition' and it's on my favourites list.

I also must state that I listened to 'Stay' by Michelle Featherstone like ten times while writing this, and as this song is absolutely heartbreaking and melancholy and all kinds of beautiful, the fic got . . . borderline-wistful. It was supposed to be all fluffy and witty, but then that kinda died. Ah well.

And . . . yes. I haven't done the Snape/Sinistra one-shot thing in over a year, and this is definitely different from any of my previous ones. So . . . yay?

And just to avoid confusion, the first one is set during Chamber of Secrets, the second during Prisoner of Azkaban, the third and fourth during Goblet of Fire, and the fifth during Order of the Phoenix.

Is she done rambling yet?

Who knows, man?

Also -- Snape? Not so much with the IC-ness.

Just a forewarning.

**

* * *

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**Feigned**

"Contrary to your apparent belief, Auriga, I don't care in the least if you should decide to make a fool of yourself over that ridiculous dimwit." He pauses and throws in a sneer. "Or perhaps I should say more of a fool."

She hugs the copy of _Magical Me_ to her chest, quite defiant thank you very much, and narrows her eyes at him. "Are you sure you're not jealous, then?"

He stares at her with a sort of faint horror that she almost likes to think is feigned, mutters '_absolute nonsense_' under his breath, and storms out of the staffroom.

She smiles.

****

**Bare Bones**

The thing that irritates him about her the most, he believes, is her ability to catch him off-guard by how well she can, on occasion, understand him.

He doesn't make any attempt at hiding how much he hates Lupin; he's silent as Auriga chatters idly with the werewolf and smiles widely at him when he finally leaves. He's only been here for two days, and already Snape feels his sanity slipping away from him. How utterly predictable.

"You still haven't got over what they used to do to you at school," Auriga proclaims, even more smugly all-knowing than Trelawney, and places her hands on her hips.

It's far more complex than that, of course, and she's a pitiful simpleton to think that it can all be reduced to nothing more than a grudge. But part of him acknowledges that the woman, regardless of how silly and quixotic and potentially insane she might be – and certainly is, has a knack to strip some things down to the bare bones.

She's waiting for a reply; her eyes are alight with interest, half-visible behind her glasses. They're slipping down the bridge of her nose yet again, and if her odd perceptiveness is the most irritating thing about her, then this is the second-most.

He pushes up her glasses and scowls at her, just in case she isn't aware of how very ridiculous she is.

It is his job to remind her, after all.

**Inhale**

"Really, Auriga," he says, staring down at the stack of rather sloppy star charts that she's grading. He sneers as she scribbles a B across the top of Neville Longbottom's – very poor work; an obvious F. But her grading policy, of course, is utter rubbish. He's always been aware of this.

"Really what?" she asks distractedly, and rewards Hermione Granger with her usual 'A,' along with an 'excellent!' and a smiling face. Pathetic.

"I was rather surprised you didn't lose consciousness altogether at the event earlier," he says, leaning down so his mouth is perhaps an inch from her ear. Mocking her is much more effective this way. "You showed an astounding lack of faith in dear Potter."

"He was battling a dragon," Auriga responds crossly, and turns to meet his eyes. "He very well could've died, you know. I figure I had a right to display a bit of concern."

He could kiss her very easily right now, but decides against it. She's hardly appealing when she acts like this.

"For the love of God, Severus," she says, after a pause that lasts maybe a second too long. "Don't you care about anything?"

"No," he lies smoothly.

****

**Nothing**

She reminds herself not to cry. He hates it when she gets foolishly emotional, after all. And this is serious, terribly serious, and it won't do to have her weeping like a lost child, and—

He comes inside, eyes harboring even more of a darkness than usual, and regards her with a mild sort of surprise. He doesn't speak. Just stares.

Right. She supposes she should, then.

"Is . . . is it true," she says, and attempts to swallow the lump in the back of her throat. "I-is he back, then?"

He nods.

She's not an idiot. She knows what this means. She knows what Dumbledore will ask of him, and she knows that he'll accept. He may be heartless, and a bastard, but beyond all that he's got a bit of honour. And she knows that this is the sort of thing that he'll risk his life for.

"Oh," she says, because that's all she can manage, and she sounds maybe six years old. But she won't cry.

And she doesn't even like him that much, anyway. He says scathing things to her and he's never taken her seriously and he'd set her hair on fire once, absolutely not by accident, and in spite of all of this, tears are streaming down her face, because maybe she hates him on occasion but that doesn't mean that she doesn't love him.

"Honestly, Auriga," he says, and it's barely more than a whisper, "you know that there's no point in crying."

She nods, and can't help but feel a bit better when he sinks down next to her. Because she knows that if this is it, then nothing can save him, but despite knowing it's a little hard to believe, so long as he's next to her.

****

**Wait**

The night after Sirius Black dies, they split a bottle of firewhisky and engage in a bit of pointless conversation, the sort that he's always hated and she thrives upon.

"You ever wonder what happened to Herman?" she inquires, her words blurring together just a bit even though she's barely had anything to drink. She's terrible at holding her liquor.

"I've always found that there are more important things to think about than the whereabouts of a rogue iguana," Snape responds evenly.

"Y'know," she says, and waves her glass slightly to emphasize her nonexistent point, "I always reckoned he was a bit evil." She giggles and takes another sip. "I wrote about him a lot. In my diary."

This is a topic that has always fascinated him. Damned, however, if he'll make this obvious. "I don't suppose you wrote about anything of interest."

She shrugs; her shoulders are slim, almost frail. "Dunno. I wrote a lot about you."

He arches an eyebrow at her. "Did you?"

"I think," she says, and leans forward in a confidential sort of way, "that I was always a bit in love with you. I just never really wanted to admit it."

This is somewhat familiar. He doesn't tell her so. Instead, he just looks at her. The candle that sits between them flickers lazily, leaving dancing streaks of red in her hair.

"Otherwise," she continues, and reaches across the table to press her hand lightly against his face – her sleeve barely misses the flame; it's so thoroughly characteristic of her, "I'm quite sure I wouldn't have waited for you all of this time."

"Waited," he repeats.

She nods. "Mmhmm."

It doesn't make sense, precisely. "And what do you mean by that?"

"Something," she replies, almost coy, and a hint of a smile plays at her mouth.

"Well, yes, Auriga, I had surmised as much—"

She blows the candle out, the movement oddly graceful, and darkness drapes over them. Regardless, she finds her way into his arms.


End file.
